


it's the sweetest thing

by slightlied



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Baking, Christmas Cookies, JJ and Seung Gil Are Best Friends, M/M, Phichit and Leo and Guang-Hong Are Best Friends, Pining, Soft Lee Seung Gil, [fetty wap voice] i be in the kitchen cookin pies w my baby, baking together, except instead of pies it’s cookies, happy birthday phiphi!!!, only for like 2 seconds tho, phichit is a man on a mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14489574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlied/pseuds/slightlied
Summary: “I wanna apologize about the mess,” Phichit says, walking over to start a pot of coffee.“But?”“It’s ass o’clock and half of my brain is still asleep. And you woke me up and I don’t even know your name.” Phichit gestures vaguely at him. “Also there’s all… this.”The guy considers this. He’s seated himself on one of the high chairs by the counter, and there’s a squeak out of the leather cushion as he shifts weight, but his voice is steady as he says, “It’s almost nine a.m. so you should be awake anyway, but I’m sorry I woke you. My name is Seunggil and I live across the hall and I baked too many Christmas cookies, which are really just… regular cookies. But we can also call them apology cookies, too, now.”or: seunggil bakes too many christmas cookies and shares them with his neighbor





	it's the sweetest thing

**Author's Note:**

> title is from ‘best part’ by daniel caesar & prompt is from [tumblr](http://alloftheprompts.tumblr.com/post/134349883493/25-days-christmas-romance-challenge) (that post is so golden and im gonna be using so many of those prompts omg)
> 
> day 2 / 12days of forovnixmas (yes its still happening dkfjdkfj who said these days would be consecutIVE WHO SAID… listen… everyday… is a holiday..,,, if only U BelieVE)
> 
> \+ yes leo’s contact name is a reference to ‘o sole mio’ by sf9
> 
> also also! shoutout to [hana](http://yuurisoutofyourleague.tumblr.com/) for introducing me to the indie girl kitchen vine. thank u. phichit thanks u. the boizu thank u.

 

❅

 

Contrary to popular belief, Phichit is not a morning person. 

There is a very distinct way he prefers to spend his mornings: buried under two comforters, with the aircon raised way up, and the curtains drawn closed even though they’re made out of a material so sheer that harsh sunlight filters through anyway. It’s especially bright out this morning, with the light reflecting off of the fresh snow that fell sometime in the middle of the night. 

Still, it’s not bright enough to wake him up. He is buried under two comforters for a reason, and like, _really_ buried. Like not even getting oxygen to his brain probably. It is perhaps the reason why the knocking on his front door pounds so loudly against the insides of his ears. 

He drags himself across his matress solely with his arms, partly because it’ll be the only strength training he does during this holiday break, partly because his legs fell asleep while he was buried underneath all that comforter. He lets his body drop down onto the carpet with a painful thud; the sting is nice on his legs. He makes his way to the front door with his eyes closed, lazily checks his breath while scratching at his neck.

Phichit is not a morning person, but he is at the very least not a rude person. 

“Good morning,” he tries to say as pleasantly as he can when he opens the door. He can’t see anything at first; it’s so dark. He quickly realizes that his eyes are still screwed shut. “Ah, h-hold on.” He rubs at his eyes, tries to blink them open. “Shit.” 

“Are… you okay?” a voice says, quiet and cautious.

“This happens sometimes. Just give me, like.” Phichit rubs again, more aggressive. “My eyes get dry really easily so my tear ducts produce more moisture to try and compensate, and then while I sleep, it’s—“ he cuts himself off to yawn, still rubbing at his face, “—it’s so annoying, gets all gross and it’s like my eyelids are glued together and…” 

His eyes finally open—just barely, but they’re open and they _work_ —and rest on a cute boy standing on his welcome mat. He hugs a large Tupperware to his chest. Behind him, the door to the apartment across the hallway is slightly ajar. 

“…and good morning,” Phichit finds himself saying again. He squints. Looks between the open apartment door and the guy and the Tupperware and then back to the guy. He faintly registers the scent of gingerbread in the air when he sucks in a breath in recognition because this guy—he’s seen this guy around. 

Phichit moved into this apartment building only last week, but this guy has been _around_. Passing through the lobby while Phichit’s figuring out where his mailbox is, because he’s still not used to it and keeps forgetting. Talking quietly to himself while he unlocks his bike out front, not even noticing Phichit standing by the bus stop. 

Once, he ducked into the stairwell when he saw Phichit about to use the elevator. Phichit had assumed he was just shy. Or like, just hated interacting with people, which Phichit never really understood was a thing until Yuri Plisetsky enlightened him on that kind of lifestyle. But this guy did have that vibe going on, always dressed in sharp, dark clothing, always keeping his face in a blank expression, the type that pretty people could pull off and look completely unapologetic about. 

_Do not fuck with this guy,_ the rational part of Phichit’s brain had told him. So Phichit had shrugged and pressed the elevator button to close the doors. _Okay whatever. I won’t._

But now here he is. On his doorstep at something-a.m, face a bit pink and puffy from the cold. He’s drowning in the oversized sweater hanging off his shoulders. There are smiling snowmen on his pajama pants. Floppy doggy ears and pink doggy tongues stick out of his slippers and what the hell. What the actual hell.

_What are the rules,_ Phichit asks the rational part of his brain, _when he is the one here, fucking with me first._

“You said that,” his neighbor says. “It’s been really cold and long, though, actually. The morning.” 

Phichit’s eyes shoot back up to his face. He’s got one thick eyebrow raised, like he’s daring Phichit to say something about his outfit. 

The rational part of his brain is blissfully silent. He leaves a message after the imaginary beep.

“You can come in,” Phichit says, voice slightly strangled-sounding because he’s having a lot of feelings right now. Confusion. Delight. Sleep-deprivation. Some weird combo of surprise and, like, general gay-young-adult-male horniness. Hell. 

He shuffles to the side to open his door wider and, in the process, hits the heel of his foot against the metal doorstop. 

_Hell._

“Are you okay?” The guy glances down worriedly.

“I’m fine.”

He is not fine. 

“Please come in,” he says with a smile, blinking back the actual tears that are stinging his eyes now. Phichit is a seasoned smiler. He has weathered through more difficult situations, against cuter-looking boys, armed with only slightly-less exhausted smiles. His best friend is Katsuki Yuuri, after all.

But the guy clearly isn’t completely buying it because he shoots Phichit a dubious look, although he moves to step inside anyway. He slips out of his slippers carefully, places them neatly and directly perpendicular to the wall moulding. 

“Oh no, it’s totally fine,” Phichit says hurriedly. “You’re already in slippers, you don’t have to…” He trails off when he looks down at the guy’s wiggling feet. His socks have laughing corgis on them. 

Phichit’s gonna have a stroke. 

His neighbor readjusts the Tupperware in his arms and looks curiously around Phichit’s apartment. It’s still bare, still littered with unpacked boxes because Phichit hasn’t finished moving in yet. That is, he hasn’t finished successfully sweet-talking Leo into helping him move in yet. 

(But Leo’ll come around, the way Leo always comes around, because he cannot resist puppy dog eyes and compliments about his cooking.)

So all he really has in his living room is a couch, a stack of textbooks, his camera equipment, a shitload of charging stations. Phichit (limps) leads him to the kitchen, where there is at least a fake decorative plant on the counter that Yuuri had given him as a housewarming gift. 

“I wanna apologize about the mess,” Phichit says, walking over to start a pot of coffee. He accidentally adds pressure to his bruised heel and winces. 

“But?” 

“It’s ass o’clock and half of my brain is still asleep. And you woke me up and I don’t even know your name.” Phichit gestures vaguely at him. “Also there’s all… this.” 

The guy considers this. He’s seated himself on one of the high chairs by the counter, and there’s a squeak out of the leather cushion as he shifts weight, but his voice is steady as he says, “It’s almost nine a.m. so you should be awake anyway, but I’m sorry I woke you. My name is Seunggil and I live across the hall and I baked too many Christmas cookies, which are really just… regular cookies. But we can also call them apology cookies, too, now.” 

He pauses to take the lid off of the Tupperware in front of him. The smell of gingerbread combined with the brewing coffee is _awesome_ , makes the half of Phichit’s brain that’s awake go suddenly heady with hunger, and the number of feelings Phichit is currently experiencing has doubled after Seunggil’s monologue.

“What did you mean by ‘all this’?” Seunggil asks with a furrowed brow. He slides the Tupperware across the counter and gestures for Phichit to take a cookie. His sweater is seriously big on him, so the movement mostly involves the end of his sleeve falling off his wrist and flapping in the air. 

_Hell._

Phichit sighs. “All of it, dude. Everything.” 

 

❅

 

The cookies are delicious. Phichit has to physically restrain himself from polishing off the entire batch. 

“Go ahead, though,” Seunggil says, only looking slightly judgemental as Phichit brushes crumbs off his tshirt. “I mean, I brought them to you and all.” 

“They’re so cute,” Phichit coos over the differently decorated cookies. They’re gingerbread men; some of them wear patterned scarves, a couple are wearing glasses. Strangely, one wears a crown but has a sizable dick drawn on where it’s face is supposed to be. 

“I...actually I made them for my coworkers,” Seunggil admits. “The cookies are supposed to look like them.” He turns an interesting shade of pink. Fucking adorable. Phichit doesn’t know why he was ever intimidated by this guy, although it might be that the rational part of his brain is still asleep and just not fully operational yet. “I’m not really friendly with them, but they’re my friends. I guess. Or I don’t know. I’m not good at...I made cookies because cookies kinda speak for themselves, you know.”

“Cookies are always good,” Phichit agrees. He pauses halfway through sipping his coffee. “Why am I eating your coworker’s friendship cookies?” 

Seunggil rolls his eyes. “Well, this is a test batch. You have to make those first,” he says like it’s obvious. “But I made a lot and I was gonna give it to the landlady but I remember she has diabetes. I’m making the real things next week for the holiday party.” 

“You’re so cute. _Test batches,_ ” Phichit breathes, looking at him in awe. Seunggil squirms under his gaze and wrinkles his nose, but the pinkness never really left his cheeks and he just looks—fucking adorable. Phichit sets his mug down to clutch his chest. “They’re gonna love it. They’re gonna be your friends forever.” 

“Gross,” Seunggil says, even though he looks a bit pleased. 

“Constructive criticism, though. Maybe don’t draw a dick,” Phichit says helpfully, holding up the cookie wearing a crown. He bites into it, literally balls deep in icing. Yes homo. 

“Nah, that guy’s a dick,” Seunggil confirms. “The worst.” 

“And he’s your bestest friend of all?” 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Cookies kinda speak for themselves,” Phichit shrugs, repeating Seunggil’s words from earlier. 

“Yeah,” Seunggil says after a moment. “Yeah.” 

 

❅

 

**GROUP CHAT >> “we dem boizu”**

**phichit  
** someone explain to me how i can fuck up something as simple as no-bake chocolate bites 

**o soleo mio  
** knowing u and ur history w the kitchen?  
with ease

 **phichit  
** ~welcome to my kitchen~  
i got (overripe) bananissss  
and (bruised) avocadusssss  
…but mostly i have A MESS, look at this

[IMAGE ATTACHED]

i was so stressed too i felt like i was on the great british bakeoff  
except 1. not british  
2\. clearly not great  
3\. didn’t even have to bake anything

 **gucci hong  
** why did you do this  
i thought you moved across the street from a publix for a reason

**phichit**  
it’s not for me

**o soleo mio**  
even worse

**gucci hong**  
yeah why would you do this to someone else

**phichit**  
:(  
my neighbor gave me cookies so i felt the need to return the favor

**o soleo mio**  
is it tho? returning the favor?

**phichit**  
:( :( :(

**gucci hong**  
just postmates him some donuts bro 

**o soleo mio**  
i can come over and help u make something 

**phichit**  
no i wanted  
its dumb but i wanted to do something nice myself  
but thank u  <3

**gucci hong**  
aw phi you cutie

**o soleo mio**  
thats not dumb  
good luck  <3 u can do this  
also give me ur overripe bananas omg i’ve been meaning to try a new banana bread recipe

**phichit**  
8 overripe bananas for 8 hours of unpacking and organizing? :D?

**o soleo mio  
** phichit chulanont  
i do have a life u know

**phichit  
** u can test ur banana bread on me?? :DD?

**o soleo mio  
** i’ll think about it

**phichit**  
!!!

**gucci hong**  
in leo-speak that means yes  
***sí

**o soleo mio  
** i’ll think about it mEANS I’LL THINK ABOUT IT 

**phichit**  
thank u so much leo i appreciate it  <3333  
lov u

 **o soleo mio  
** :(  
love you 2

 **gucci hong**  
love yall 3  
:)

 **phichit**  
:)  
nudge nudge  
o soleo mio~  
turn that frowwwwn

**gucci hong**  
upside doowwwwnnn

**o soleo mio  
** sigh  
…  
:)

 

❅

 

The next time Phichit sees Seunggil it is 4 p.m. and Phichit is definitely awake. But the fact that he is awake and thus should have a fully-operational brain doesn’t really help things. 

“Oh. Hey.” Seunggil sounds surprised when he sees Phichit at his door. He is not wearing an over-sized sweater and ridiculous pajama pants this time, but he is wearing an equally-ridiculous button-up shirt and black slacks. They are ridiculous in that they make Phichit’s chest tighten weirdly, expand and contract like they haven’t stopped doing since Phichit saw him over the weekend. They are ridiculous in that he is still wearing them with his doggy slippers. 

_This is what you left me to face on my own,_ Phichit tells the rational part of his brain, while his brain just goes: _Shit. What the hell? What the hell._

Phichit has the strange urge to ask about what kind of socks he’s wearing. He smiles instead. Seasoned smiler Phichit Chulanont, reporting for duty. 

“Hi,” he says cheerfully. He holds up the platter in his hands. “Brought you something.” 

Seunggil blinks and lets him in, glances at the plate as he leads them to his kitchen. “What is it?” he asks politely, but he eyes the platter suspiciously as Phichit takes off the plastic wrap. He squints. “Is that…”

Chocolate bites are pretty unremarkable on their own and of course, that would not do. 

Of course, Phichit had had to do something about it. 

“Are those… fangs? And blood?” 

Seunggil steps close to get a better look when Phichit sets the platter down on the table. Phichit wants to say that he looks stunned (maybe even amazed) (maybe even _impressed_ ), as his widened eyes carefully trace the splash of red syrup that decorates the outside of the plate. It swirls neatly (maybe even _elegantly_ ) towards the center, where a set of plastic vampire teeth are framed by mounds of chocolate bites. 

“Fake blood,” Phichit assures. “Well, fake fangs, too. Duh.” 

“Chocolate _bites_ ,” Seunggil says quietly, almost in awe. 

It is extremely hard for Phichit not to puff his chest out a little from the overwhelming amount of pride he is currently feeling. He watches as Seunggil picks up a chocolate bite that had been decorated with a syruppy smiley face and tentatively places it in his mouth. 

“I do have to admit that the points I get for presentation and artistry probably far outweigh the actual technical aspects of, y’know, taste. But you will love them,” Phichit says confidently. He snaps his fingers. “Test batches, though. You were really onto something with those. They make so much sense now.” 

Seunggil huffs out a laugh around the chocolate in his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I had to do’em like four times. Made my friend Leo try all of them and almost killed him. From the heavenly goodness, of course.” 

“Of course,” Seunggil nods. He chews meaningfully and swallows. “It’s good.” 

“Yeah?” Phichit can’t stop himself from doing a little fist pump in the air, especially when he sees Seunggil lick at the bit of chocolate on his fingertips. “They’re amazing, right? Ten out of ten? Would cure Auntie’s diabetes, you think?” 

Seunggil rolls his eyes and gestures at his counter, which Phichit now realizes is covered with all sorts of bowls and baking ingredients. Seunggil gives him a small smile. 

“They’re so good, I might even let you help me bake the final batch of cookies for my work party,” he says. He’s teasing. No way. Phchit’s mouth drops open.

“Your coworker’s friendship cookies? Really?” 

Seunggil wrinkles his nose at _friendship cookies._ “Stop calling them that.”

“I wanna draw the dick on the dick cookie.” Phichit tries to reach for the tubes of frosting but Seunggil’s hand darts forward, pulls them further away from him. 

“You’ve never met JJ, I think you’ve already experienced enough privilege in your life.” 

 

❅

 

**peanut pupper cookie  
** They’re a hit

[IMAGE ATTACHED]

**phichit**  
omg !!!  
of course they are  
is that jj  
aw look at u guys bein cute best friends

 ** **peanut pupper cookie**  
** Thanks for your help  
…O k nvm  
Don’t ever say that again

 **phichit  
** seriously cmon look. bffs  
best friends !  
forever !!  
and everrrr

 ** **peanut pupper cookie**  
** Don’t talk 2 me  
Or my son  
Ever again

[IMAGE ATTACHED]

**phichit  
** OHGDYODO  
OH?? MY GOD  
? ? ?? ?  
I  
KNEW IT  
I KNEW YOU’D LOVE THE ONE I MADE OF YOU  
KNEW YOU’D COME AROUND

**phichit**  
also i can’t believe U pretended u didn’t get any of the references i was saying when ur clearly a memelord wtf

****peanut pupper cookie**  
** CLEARLY a memelord  
The only thing worse than being a memelord is CLEARLY being a memelord

 **phichit  
** hey that was a compliment  
i think u meant to say the only thing ~better~

****peanut pupper cookie**  
** Phichit stops saying nonsense challenge 

**phichit  
** omg  
i mean. that’s just exhibit A right there, don’t u think **  
** seunggil accepts the cold hard truth challenge  
((challenge failed))

 

❅

 

“Let me guess. Easter bunny chocolates?” Seunggil pulls his door open with an appraising look at the bowl in Phichit’s hands. 

“What?” Phichit asks distractedly, eyes immediately drawn to Seunggil’s sweater. He can’t help it. Outside Seunggil and Inside Seunggil are so different, and he can never completely reconcile the two.

Outside Seunggil: 

  * Doesn’t smile.
  * Wears dark colors. 
  * Makes Phichit’s chest quiver with fear



Inside Seunggil:

  * Still doesn’t smile, except for when he thinks Phichit’s not looking.
  * Wears—fucking dogs. All the time. 
  * Makes Phichit’s chest quiver with… not… fear (?)
  * ???



Regardless, Phichit doesn’t hold back from flicking a finger at the dog paw patch on Seunggil’s breastpocket on his way into his living room. 

“I had the impression you have a thing for out-of-season holiday sweets,” Seunggil snorts as they make themselves comfortable on the couch.

“Shut up,” Phichit says, because he can’t think of anything else to say to that. Because Seunggil’s ducking forward to take off the cling wrap and dig his hand into the bowl of popcorn that Phichit’s brought, shoves a handful into his mouth, uncharacteristically messy like he doesn’t have an Outside Persona that usually has, like, cardinal rules of organization governing his life. Or something. 

Because a bit of popcorn kernel sticks to the corner of his mouth and Phichit’s hand itches with the urge to brush it off. Because Seunggil’s tongue swipes out, lightning-fast, to take care of it. 

Ugh.

“Shut up,” Phichit says again. He blinks rapidly as he tears his eyes away, as if it’ll help the offending sight fade from his memory. Because that’s how Phichit feels right now: freakin’ offended. 

“Jeez, ‘kay. Calm down.” 

Seunggil turns the television on to the show his coworker-friend JJ’s been talking about. (Coworker-friend: a new term. Important. The hyphen, specifically, is the most important part—Seunggil insists.) 

“If it sucks, we’re changing it immediately,” he says, eyes all narrowed and scrutinizing and _cute_ as he reaches for another handful of popcorn. 

_What do you have to say for yourself_ , the rational part of Phichit’s brain says. 

_Shut up,_ Phichit thinks bitterly. 

Phichit can’t really remember whether or not the program ends up sucking, just that he swears Seunggil smiles a little and tries not to laugh at some point, and that he gets overcome with the urge to reach out and tickle the laughter out of him. So he does.

“I will kick you out,” Seunggil threatens between unwilling giggles.

“Bet.” 

“ _No one_ says that in real life.” 

“False. Fuckboys say that in real life.”

“Oh, that’s great, okay, so I’m glad you can finally accept that _you’re_ —“

“Noooooo, no no, I’m not a _fuckboy_ , I’m just saying—“

But Seunggil doesn’t kick him out, not that day and not for the rest of the week, and teasing the laughter out of Seunggil’s mouth gets a lot easier.

 

❅

 

Phichit wakes up one morning, groggy and eyes stubbornly half-shut again and… warm. Really, really warm. 

“Oh my god,” he croaks out. He wiggles around in what feels like an impossibly soft cloud burrito. It’s the only image his mind can conjure to make sense of the pure bliss he’s wrapped up in. “What is this. Is this heaven?” 

A faint snort comes from a short distance away. And then the padding of some footsteps, muted as if the feet are wearing the thickest socks ever. 

“Not heaven.” Seunggil’s voice is always low and quiet in the mornings, Phichit notes. “Just my couch and my Snoopy blanket.”

“Oh my god,” Phichit says again. He manages to peek one eye open. Seunggil’s crouched in front of him, laughing. “Stop it, oh my god. Sorry I fell asleep here.”

Seunggil huffs out one last laugh through a sigh and waves a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. The documentary was boring, huh.” 

“Not _boring_ …just…” 

“Just boring.” 

“A little bit,” Phichit admits. He yawns, takes in the scent of lavender and rosemary and—Seunggil. Heaven. “What time is it? Do I need to go?”

“You can stay if you want.” Seunggil stands and stretches his arms above his head, which makes his pajama shirt rise so that Phichit is eye-level with a sliver of skin that gets exposed. Perfect. Great. Back to hell. “It’s around eight-thirty. And it’s Saturday, so. I don’t have any plans this morning.” 

Even perfecter. Phichit groans and throws an arm over his face. 

“Eight-thirty. _No one_ should be awake. Why am I awake.” 

“It’s a part of my plan,” Seunggil teases. Phichit hears the floorboards creak as Seunggil makes his way to the kitchen.

“Your plan,” Phichit says when he hears Seunggil return, feels him settle down on the other end of the couch by Phichit’s feet. 

“Uh-huh. Here.”

Phichit rubs at his eyes and opens them to Seunggil extending a mug towards him.

“Careful. It’s hot,” he says. He turns the mug and holds it at the sides so that the handle is free for Phichit to take. Phichit blows at the steam before taking a sip.

“Oh _nice,_ hot chocolate. Do you know what this would be so good with right now?” 

Seunggil hums as he takes a sip from his own mug. “What?” 

“ _Croissants_.” Phichit’s already sitting up, swinging his legs over the couch to look for his slippers. “Croissants, Seunggil, c’mon. Let’s go, I have some at my place.” 

“From Leo?” 

“From Leo,” Phichit confirms.

It doesn’t occur to him until they’re already in his apartment and setting plates and napkins on his kitchen table that Seunggil never answered his question. 

“Wait. What was your plan?” he asks, pushing the tray of croissants towards Seunggil. 

“Ah.” Seunggil grabs one and dunks it into his mug. “My plan to turn you into a morning person.” 

Phichit snorts, to which Seunggil raises an eyebrow. 

“Do you _doubt_ me?” 

“I will never ever be a morning person,” Phichit says firmly. He runs a hand through his bedhead, yawns again. “It’s too late for me, I’m afraid.”

“Okay, well. Let me ask you something. What time does it say on your microwave right now?” 

Phichit turns his head to check and frowns. “8:42.” 

“And let me ask you another thing. What time do you usually wake up on the weekends?” 

“Like twelve,” Phichit says with no shame,  almost with pride, even. 

“But, if you think about it,” Seunggil says as he continues to dip his croissant into his chocolate casually. “What time have you woken up? Say, the past two or three weekends?”

“Like…” Phichit chews slowly as he deliberates. Chews slowly, slowly, until his jaw just comes to a full-stop. “Like nine. What? Oh my god.” 

“You doubted me,” Seunggil tsks, shaking his head. He looks particularly happy with himself as he finally takes a bite of his croissant, all soggy and gross with hot chocolate. Phichit watches with mild horror as some of his drink drips onto his sweater sleeve, makes Seunggil frown and dab at it with a napkin. 

“Oh my god,” Phichit says again. Not for the last time that day, no. Not for the last time ever. 

 

❅

 

**GROUP CHAT >> “we dem boizu”**

**phichit  
** soooo **  
** im in love

**o soleo mio  
**!!! my banana bread recipe worked out? :D 

**phichit  
** what no shut up im not talking about your banana bread  
(but yea they were rlly good and i shared some w building auntie and she likes them)

**o soleo mio  
** ok yay! 

**gucci hong**  
i think it’s clear what phichit’s talking about

**phichit  
** yes thank u guanghong for paying attention to my life

**gucci hong**  
thank YOU phiphi for always hyping me up

**o soleo mio  
** ?  
idgi

 **gucci hong**  
phi screenshotted my selfie on snapchat and commented a bunch of heart n fire emojis when i posted it on instagram  
love you phi xxx

 **phichit  
** what  
no  
goddammit gh  
ily2 but i’m not talking about ur selfie

 **gucci hong**  
??  
what else could you possibly be talking about

**o soleo mio  
** isn’t it the nice neighbor w the dick cookie

**phichit  
** thank U leo! gracias! muy bien!

**o soleo mio  
** but i still dont get it?  
i’ve cooked u lots of cookies in the past? most likely sweeter, chewier, tastier ones than the ones ur neighbor gave u?  
does that mean ur in love with me too?

**gucci hong**  
of course we are all in love with you leo 

**o soleo mio  
** of course

**phichit  
** u guys make it so hard to talk about boys with u

**gucci hong**  
on the contrary, it is really easy to talk about boys with us  
as long as the boys you are talking about are ourselves

**o soleo mio  
** we can’t talk about boys but we CAN talk about BOIZU 

**gucci hong**  
hi5

**o soleo mio  
** hi5 !! 

**phichit  
** bye10

 

❅

 

“Hey, Seunggil?” 

Phichit figures he shouldn’t waste any time. Like, it’s not like he has a lot to lose.

“Hmm?”

Like. It’s not like Seunggil is his neighbor and it would definitely be awkward if he were to reject Phichit. 

(Because it’s not like they’ve become something like friends (??) over the past several weeks—they spend time with each other regularly like at least every other day, watching bad reality tv and gossipping about their friends and, jeez, they’ve baked freakin’ cookies in the kitchen together—oh god, this is all hitting Phichit like an epic cinematic montage, right now.)

…

Shit.

Shiiiiiiiiit. 

“Nothing, nevermind.” 

“Okay?”

 

❅

  

Yuuri is terrible at advice. He seldom offers it, but when he does, it is truly terrible. But he more than makes up for this by being a great listener. 

“So you like him,” Yuuri clarifies. His voice comes out all tinny and distorted through the laptop speakers as the wifi lags momentarily, makes his pixelated face freeze onscreen for a few seconds.

“Yeah, but I’m confused, too, like.” Phichit brushes imaginary dust off of his keyboard as he tries to collect his thoughts. “Like I’m not even sure if we’re friends?” 

Yuuri tilts his head at the camera. “Didn’t you just talk about how you’ve been friends?”

“We do friend stuff,” Phichit corrects. “Stuff that friends do.” 

_Sometimes stuff that not-friends do,_ Phichit doesn’t say, thinking about the other day when he was looking through his room and found at least three of Seunggil’s dog sweaters in his own closet. He hadn’t even realized Seunggil had been coming over enough for him to be leaving his clothes behind. Hadn’t even realized he had washed them over him, squared away some space for him in his dresser. 

“You do friend stuff but you’re not friends,” Yuuri says slowly. He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, I’m not following.” 

“No, no, it’s okay, like that’s my point,” Phichit says, leaning forward. He tugs absently at the charging cable. “I don’t get it either. But, like, one of the first things he ever told me was that he wasn’t good at being friends. Or something. He’s not good at friend stuff. Allegedly. And I personally don’t think that’s true? He’s been awesome at this friend stuff? He reminds me to wear my scarf when it’s extra cold out?” 

Yuuri nods. “You always forget because you think your robust blood circulation will save you.”

“And he has _terrible_ blood circulation so he’s always cold and wears at least like three layers,” Phichit says, shaking his head. “But anyway, remember how he made these friendship cookies for his coworkers, right.”

“Right, that’s how you met.” 

“Yeah, super delicious. Oh my god. Of course these magical cookies would make Seunggil’s coworkers wanna be friends with him, if they weren’t already, which I still think is up in the air,” Phichit says pointedly. “But anyway, it’s crazy because even now it’s still hard for him to admit that he’s actually friends with them.”

Yuuri frowns. 

“Like recently when he talks about work, he says they’ve been joking around with him a lot and he asked me if I think they’re actually being serious. When it’s obvious that they are totally just being fond.” 

“Huh,” Yuuri says. “What about that dick cookie guy?”

“JJ’s like, his best pal,” Phichit gushes. “Seunggil pretends to hate him but they’ll share lunches sometimes and JJ used to force them to take selfies together but now he asks for permission and Seunggil doesn’t say no.” 

“Cute,” Yuuri comments.

“ _So_ fucking cute,” Phichit says, and shakes his head again. “But Seunggil still calls JJ his coworker-friend. As in coworker- _dash_ -friend _._ Like, just say ‘friend’? That would be better. JJ wants them to be friends.” 

“Well, he _is_ his coworker-dash-friend,” Yuuri points out. 

“But the coworker part is unnecessary,” Phichit argues. He flops back on his couch and stares at the way the sunlight casts little rectangles on his ceiling, filtered by his blinds. “Or it should be. Right?” 

Yuuri’s quiet for a moment. Then, “I think that’s up to him, though. How he wants to define his relationships. Even if he has a hard time being real about it, ‘cause it’s still valid? You know?” 

“Yeah,” Phichit says. “Yeah, I know.” He pouts. “But I wanna tell him I like him.” 

“I get that. And I think you can still do that? I mean, I don’t want to give you advice—“ 

Phichit huffs out a laugh.

“Shut up, oh my god—I just mean. You can tell him you like him, because this is how _you_ want to go about defining your relationship. And then it’s his turn to talk about how he wants to define it. Both of you get a say, you know?” 

It makes sense. Of course it does, it’s _common_ sense. It takes two to tango, and all that. But Phichit’s got no problem going after what he wants to do, is really good with being honest about how he feels. He’s just scared of chasing Seunggil away. Scared Seunggil doesn’t feeling like dancing, doesn’t want to tango. 

“Yeah,” Phichit says eventually. “I know.”

 

❅

 

Seunggil is an awkward guy in the first place, is what Phichit finally concludes, after another two weeks of deliberating on it. It didn’t take much the first time around to get the guy comfortable with him, so he figures that, should their relationship revert one (or two) (or three) steps back, he can easily remedy things and move on and keep being his friendly neighbor while he nurses a broken heart for probably the rest of his life. 

The rational part of his brain is suspiciously silent throughout all of this mental maneuvering, so Phichit’s gonna just take that sign as: this is a good plan. Also because he feels like he doesn’t really have any other choice, not when: this is the only plan that makes him wanna throw up the least. On account of: this plan is wacky enough that he might just freakin’ pull it off, no matter what happens—if it works, then it works, and if it doesn’t work, (oh god, _if it doesn’t work…_ ), then there are ways that he can play it off. 

His phone beeps in his pocket, message banners sliding onto his screen. 

**o soleo mio  
** ugh pls bottle that confidence that’s preventing u from turning this into a melodramatic, drawn-out slowburn and lend it to me lmao  
so i can put it in a pudding or something  
phiphi passion pudding(™)

 **gucci hong**  
you got this dude!!! proud of you! takin’ initiative!  
get ur man!  
getttttiiiiitt  
lesgettttitt!!!!!  
!!!! !!@!! !11  
haha wow i am so nervous for u holy shit  
cant imagine how ur feelin rn

**katsukrrrt skrrt  
** Ur my hero! <3 

**King JJ  
** Dude I’m SO excited I’m vibrating lol  
Lemme know how it goes, altho I fully expect Seunggil to come into the office tomorrow lookin like a real CLOWN and my camera app is r e a d y

He casually flips his phone over on Seunggil’s counter and looks up at where Seunggil’s prodding at the buttons on his oven. Clears his throat. Tries to act as if this just like any other time that he’s been seated here in Seunggil’s kitchen, all neighborly with friendly intentions. 

“How’s it looking?” he asks. Super casual. He’s way chill. Everything’s chill so far.

“I think it’s… almost ready?” Seunggil bends down to peer into the oven, pulls at the hem of his golden retriever pajama pants so that they don’t touch the floor. “You said this was a pizookie?” 

Phichit pouts. “Hey, that took me like eight test batches and, in my opinion, looks exactly like how a pizookie should look. I referenced Google a hundred times, what are you saying—“

“Whoa.” Seunggil’s laughing as he straightens up, shoulders shaking underneath his sweater. “It looks fine, I’ve just never had a pizookie before.” 

Phichit looks at him in mild disbelief. “You’ve never had a pizookie before?” 

“Nope.” 

“This is your first pizookie?” Phichit feels the need to clarify. 

“Yep.” 

“Huh.” Phichit concentrates very hard on continuing to breathe normally. Like in the most casual, normal way possible. “Huh, okay.” 

“You okay?” Seunggil asks when he crouches again to open the oven. He takes the pizookie tin out with an oven mitt—it’s in the shape of a dog paw, _of course_ it is—and gingerly sets it between them on his counter. “Hot, hot, hot,” he mutters under his breath. 

“I’m okay.” Phichit blinks, stares at him as he flaps his hand in the air, doggy sweater sleeve flying everywhere. “I’m okay. Are you okay?” 

Seunggil huffs out a laugh. “I’m okay, Phi. S’just hot.” 

_Yeah,_ Phichit doesn’t say. _Yeah, for sure._ He coughs. 

The pizookie turns out good. Seunggil puts a scoop of cookies and cream ice cream for each of them and they devour it in like a quarter of a quarter of the time that it took to put the whole thing together. It’s probably a bit too sweet, but Seunggil doesn’t say anything about it. He just continues to spoon pizookie and ice cream into his mouth and scrunches his face whenever he accidentally eats either too much pizookie or too much ice cream. Too much of the hot or too much of the cold.

“Don’t let this get to your head, but that kind of changed my life,” Seunggil says afterwards, curling up on one end of his couch. 

“Oh no,” Phichit says, sinking down next to him. He grabs a couch cusion and hugs it to his chest. “Oh no, it’s getting to my head.”

“I specifically said not to do that,” Seunggil says with a shake of his head, but he’s laughing. It’s so weird, but it isn’t. It’s like Inside Seunggil amplified, smiling at Phichit straight-on and letting his laugh ring out loud and it should be weird, but it isn’t. It’s just Seunggil. 

“That thing you said before,” Phichit says carefully. He takes a deep breath. 

“Mmm?” Seunggil looks at him. 

“Remember how you said cookies kinda speak for themselves?” 

“Yeah.” Seunggil nods slowly. “Yeah, they do. _Cookies are always good,_ ” he recites Phichit’s words. 

“Yeah, okay, uh.” Phichit doesn’t want to break eye contact, hugs the cushion closer to himself. Looks at how Seunggil’s looking back at him with one of his thick eyebrows raised, like he’s confused but also like he’s waiting patiently for Phichit to explain himself, anyway. “So, in keeping up with this metaphor, right. I made you… the pizookie.” 

“The pizookie,” Seunggil says. 

“Yeah. As in, from the producers that brought you the friendship cookies…” 

Phichit tries to laugh, clears his throat. He wants to end it there. He wishes Seunggil would just know what he’s trying to say, but at the same time the words have been sitting in his chest for so long that they need to be let out. 

“As in, I really like you. And I know I’m just a neighbor-dash-friend. Or I mean, I don’t want to assume that’s what you think, because that’s why I wanted us to have this conversation. Because I don't wanna be assuming. Because I really like you and I wanted to let you know because _you_ kind of change _my_ life all the time. As in, you’re the pizookie.” 

“The pizookie,” Seunggil says again, voice cracking. 

“Yeah, and I thought… I thought… um.” Phichit shifts in his seat, now holding the cushion in an actual death clutch as he continues to look at Seunggil, searches his face for any signs, anything at all. But Seunggil’s still got his eyebrow thing happening and his lips are parted as he looks at Phichit and waits for him to finish, and Phichit’s brain is offline so it’s not like he’s in any state to be processing anything right now anyway. “I thought I had a lot more things to say but I can’t say them right now and, like, it’ll come to me tonight, probably, and it’ll really bother me that I didn’t remember again until then. But I really like you. I think you’re so fucking cute and I think you could literally kill me in my sleep as well because you’re scary, like scary-scary, sometimes. And other times you’re just feelings-scary. Like I’m scared, but only because of all of the feelings.” 

Seunggil blinks at this several times. Exhales so heavily that Phichit can see the fall of his chest from underneath his sweater. 

“Bottom line I love you,” Phichit says, finally squeezing his eyes shut. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and waits. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

Then, when he thinks he can’t take the waiting anymore, when he thinks he’s maybe forcing Seunggil to deal with feelings that he probably didn’t even want to be dealing with in the first place, when he’s about to say that they can just move on from this now, and he can leave if Seunggil wants him to: 

“I thought you like me,” Seunggil’s voice comes out low and quiet, the way it is in the morning, the way it is when Phichit’s just woken up and half-conscious with sleep. Phichit peeks at him, and Seunggil has leaned forward so that his knees are nudging against Phichit’s side and he’s so close, so lavender and rosemary and Seunggil. “Before you said like and then just now you said love.” 

“I have a lot of really strong, really more-than-like and quite-possibly-love feelings for you,” Phichit says, biting his lip. “Wasn’t supposed to say love upfront, though, yet. That was an oops. I forgot, sorry.” 

“Explain,” Seunggil says. His face is so, so pink and his sleeves are pulled down to cover his hands but he’s looking at Phichit like he wants to help him get every word out.

“I think I love you but I don’t want to scare you,” Phichit manages to say steadily. “I wanna be more than your neighbor-dash-friend, and... more than a friendship cookie? And I think a lot about how we tuck each other into our couches sometimes, and how we’ll accidentally do a load of each other’s laundry sometimes, and I don’t want those instances to be sometimes-things anymore. Like we should definitely do that all the time. And that should be really weird, right? Oh my god, that is. That is so weird.” 

“It’s not weird.” 

“I made this so weird, oh my god, I was just going to say I want to be your boyfriend,” Phichit backpedals, kind of panicking. “I didn’t mean to suggest that we—like we don’t have to move in together yet. Or at all! If you don’t want to! What am I saying? You haven’t even agreed to boyfriends. Oh no.” 

“Phi—“

“Okay,” Phichit says, holding up a hand. He rubs at his chest, over his heart. “Okay, okay. Bottom line I love you, and I want to be your boyfriend. And I have thought about how in the future we could move in together. Yeah. These are my feelings. Like a fraction of them. But that’s what I want. So now it’s your turn, I wanna know what you—“ 

He’s cut off when Seunggil presses their mouths together, one sleeve-covered hand coming up to hold his face and the other hand gently prying Phichit’s hand from where he was clutching his chest. 

And then he’s pulling away. 

“Sorry,” Seunggil says, red-faced. “Sorry, my turn to say sorry. I should’ve asked if I could do that.” He takes Phichit’s hands in his, rubs his fingers over his knuckles. “Was that okay? I should’ve asked.” 

“That was okay,” Phichit says with wide eyes. “Definitely okay. Can we? Again? Come back?” 

Except Seunggil has probably leaned forward all of one inch before Phichit is pushing him away again. 

“Wait, no. I still want to know how you feel,” he says with a frown. “It takes two to tango, Seunggil. Dance with me.” 

Seunggil barely blinks at his metaphor, moves to slide closer to him. “Yeah, yeah. You quite-possibly love me. You want to be boyfriends. Got that. I also quite-possibly love you and want to be boyfriends. Check, check. Moving in together can be shelved for another time, I think. Let’s talk about it in the morning.” 

And Phichit’s brain has just gone online again, has just barely started processing his words, before Seunggil’s kissing him again. His mouth is so soft, tastes like chocolate chip and cookies and cream. It makes Phichit gasp, makes Seunggil take these little licks into his mouth. Tastes like heaven. 

His sweater is soft as Phichit grabs at his waist to pull him closer, but his hands accidentally slip underneath the cotton and, “Sorry, didn’t mean to—“

“No, keep. Keep, it’s okay,” Seunggil says, almost whining. Seunggil’s _whining_ and Phichit thinks that possibly none of this is real. “Please let’s stop apologizing.”

“Okay, yeah. Sorry.” 

 

❅

 

“For the record,” Seunggil mumbles later, voice soft with sleep as they settle more comfortably against the couch. They should graduate to an actual bed at some point, Phichit thinks, while Seunggil kisses the corner of Phichit’s mouth and ducks his face into his neck before continuing. “For the record, you were never neighbor-dash-friend. And my quite-possibly love is a quite-definitely love.” 

“Same,” Phichit whispers, lips brushing against Seunggil’s forehead. “Okay, yeah. Same.” 

Tastes like the sweetest thing. 

 

[end]

 

 

 

❅

  
[EXTRA]

 

**GROUP CHAT >> “we dem boizu”**

**phichit**  
someone wanted a recipe for phiphi passion pudding?? 

[IMAGE ATTACHED]

**o soleo mio**  
omfg

**gucci hong**  
im crying  
im genuinely in tears  
you rlly got a boyfriend with a pizookie

**o soleo mio**  
the great british bake-off is shaking

**gucci hong**  
they're BAKING   
they're toast 

 **o soleo mio**  
u don't bake toast 

 **gucci hong**  
you know what i mean !

 **o soleo mio**  
phi i'm so happy for u!!! 

**phichit**  
<3

**o soleo mio**  
<3

**gucci hong**  
<3

**Author's Note:**

> i realize that there are like no details in this. what is phichit in school for? what are seunggil and jj's jobs?? try 2 guess 
> 
> anyway this was only supposed to be like 2k haha!!!!!!!! :) 
> 
> thank you for reading ♥


End file.
